When the tour’s European leg started a few weeks later, he figured their debut visit would yield much the same.
“A lot of the bands we supported were like, ‘Oh man, you don't want to tour Europe and the UK!’” he laughs. “I remember I one of the first bands I ever met, they said they would take sleeping pills all day just to avoid everything, then wake up for the show and then take more sleeping pills. They told us Europe is this terrible, terrible place, and England is this terrible place. We were like, ‘Oh my God, we don't want to go over there…’”
When they arrived, however, this image was shattered by “some of the best food we’d ever had and some of the best people we’d ever met”. Who cares, thought the singer, that nobody knew who they were? That’s the job they were here to do, anyway. Except, as it turns out, they’d already done it without realising.
“It was at the Wulfrun Hall in Wolverhampton, and before we go on we hear a Trivium chant. Everybody in there is chanting Trivium. The room is sold out. We go out there, and everyone knew every single word to every single song. We went to the merch table, and the entire crowd cleared out while the other two bands were on, and were just getting stuff signed by us. Then instantly we became the headliner and then played the London show at The Garage.”
A couple of months later, Trivium were booked for Download. With things spiralling so quickly, they’d been punted up the bill from the smallest tent, to opening the Main Stage.
“We drove for a couple days. None of us really slept. My voice sounded like crap. We looked like crap. I didn't warm up. It was 10:45 and we're standing by the stage. Our backdrop looked like a postage stamp. My voice was barely making a croak. We went up onstage at 11. There was no-one there. And then… it was like the scene out of Braveheart. There were 40,000 people running up this hill, and everyone knew every single word. It was such an adrenaline dump, I basically only remember 30, 60 minutes after that.”